


Does this spark joy?

by Cheesecloth



Series: September 2019 Oneshots [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot, and now all i want to do is clean my room, crowley probably watches a lot of youtube, mentions of Marie Kondo because i watched some of her videos, rated teen and up because of one little mature joke, sorry - Freeform, tiny scoop of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 09:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20525741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheesecloth/pseuds/Cheesecloth
Summary: While Crowley may have had a minimalistic flat, he was far from not being a hoarder. Hell*, no being could be more of a hoarder than an immortal mess of a demon. So Crowley happens upon some Marie Kondo videos, and decides to call on Aziraphale for a little help.*Post Script: Pun intended.





	Does this spark joy?

“Aziraphale! Angel! Thank Someone you made it!” Crowley shouted before disappearing into his flat.

Raising a curious brow, Aziraphale stepped into Crowley’s minimalist flat.

Except, it was no longer minimalist at all. Every single wall was lined up with stacks of...various trinkets and gadgets. 

“Uh, Crowley my dear, where in the heavens did this all come from?” He asked, gingerly stepping over a stray, leather-bound book with no title. 

“Didn’t come from Heaven, Angel. Came from storage.” Crowley hopped over his assorted...stash...to make his way back to Aziraphale. 

“This is all yours, Crowley?” 

The demon scratched his head, cheeks the slightest tint of pink, and crossed his arms. “Yeah yeah, Angel. I know what it looks like _now_. I honestly had no clue that I had accumulated this much stuff until I decided to do the KonMari step one: pile everything in one pile.”

He scooted some of the hoarded magazines and toy capsule vending machine antiques with his foot as discretely as he could. 

“Of course, her step one only included clothes-“

“KonMari? Step one? What does that mean, Crowley?” Aziraphale scoured the insanely messy flat for a place to sit and decided the heap of beanbag chairs would do most nicely. 

“Oh? You haven’t heard?” Crowley jumped onto one of the more neon beanbags, careful to miracle the poor old thing shut where any seam decides to burst. 

“Crowley, please. On with it.” Aziraphale found himself surprisingly quite pleased with the plushness of the horrendous tie-dye beanbag beneath him. 

“Right, alright, Angel. It’s a bit of an internet thing. I suppose she’s from your side-“

“We’re on our own side.”

“True, true,” Crowley said, but he couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “But to combat the rise of capitalistic hoarding and the deconstruction of the very core of materiality, I’m sure it was some miracle of Heaven’s to make Marie Kondo an internet sensation. 

“She teaches the viewers the value of decluttering your home and your life by thanking your possessions for all that they’ve done for you so you can have the closure to throw them away. Or donate them, I guess. The only things that stay are those that ‘Spark Joy’, and have a purpose towards your future.” 

The whole time, Aziraphale nodded along, scanning the heaps and piles of material within Crowley’s flat. He kept is hands folded on his lap, unsure. 

“Sounds utterly pleasant. Though, Crowley...what ever am I doing here?”

“I...” The demon lowers his head, not looking at Aziraphale. “I don’t know, Angel. I’m a demon.” His voice caught, just a bit, and it was enough to alert Aziraphale, who turned his body and full attention on Crowley. 

“And demons,” Crowley continued, glasses strangely still on, despite how often Crowley doesn’t wear them around Aziraphale these days. “Demons aren’t _supposed_ to...uh...feel joy. So I don’t think we...I don’t know how to tell.” 

“...Crowley-“ 

“No, I know, I know,” He said in a rush, angling as far away from Aziraphale as he could on his beanbag, making a scrunching sound as he slumped into himself. “It’s ridiculous. I shouldn’t even give a thought to some silly internet method. I’m a demon. I’m better than- I mean, I’m worse than that.”

“Oh Crowley.” He wrung his folded hands together, trying to distract himself from the pain and sympathetic grief that suddenly wracked this body’s heart. 

Crowley folded into himself even more, and Aziraphale won’t have that. 

“I’ll help. In any way I can. Please stand up, dear.” The angel stood up, offering his hands to the demon, who sniffled before spreading his own hands wondrously into the warmth of Aziraphale’s.

“Joy,” Aziraphale began, “is a little hard for even me to grasp. But I feel it, as surely as I know you do Crowley. Why, you change your hair and style so often. I think doing that brings you joy?”

Crowley’s eyebrows furrowed into his dark glasses. “Whaddya mean?” 

“Well, joy is a feeling of great happiness, or pleasure. I’m sure changing your clothes along with the times, and more notably your hair, brings you some sort of jubilation?”

Crowley thought about it for a moment. He tried to nod but his head stuttered at the feeling of Aziraphale’s thumbs slowly kneading and massaging the back of Crowley’s hands. His heart began to race-

“Crowley?”

“Uh. Yeah?”

“Is there any moment in your 6,000 years of life where you felt, hm, jovial? Intensely jovial? Where you could feel some part of you, inside, glow with delight? Where you felt that you almost couldn’t hold back a smile? Like it was trying to burst out of you? Like all the stars had aligned and the moment felt...rapturous?”

“Yes,” Crowley whispered. “Every moment with you.” 

“Because I suppose that would be what joy is- Aziraphale stuttered to a stop once he processed the revelation. 

Crowley’s form was shaking, and Aziraphale pulled the demon into his arms, holding him tightly. His own breath shook at how swiftly Crowley melted into him.

“Crowley,” He was well and truly breathless now. He felt like he was within one of his most adored novels now. Oh, this demon was truly precious to him! “Crowley,” His voice was still soft but more firm now, as he cradled his irreplaceable, winsome friend and dearheart. 

Crowley murmured a response into his waistcoat. 

Aziraphale slowly parted the embrace, smiling at his precious Crowley, and motioned at his glasses. “May I, dear?”

With a nod of Crowley’s permission, Aziraphale gently removed the dark glass barrier that kept him from seeing those fetching pale yellow eyes, and startled. 

Those lovely serpent eyes were impossibly glassy with tears that threatened to fall. 

Instead of pulling him into another, more crushing embrace, Aziraphale set the glasses aside and cupped one of Crowley’s cheek. He let his thumb caress the demon as he leaned closer, certain that the whisper that was sure to leave his awe-struck frame would be too quiet for either to hear. 

“Every moment I share with you is a joy to me, Crowley! Every second either of us could spare just to be near one other in all our millennia together has always filled me with innumerable amounts of _joy!_ Innumerable, Crowley!” His voice broke, but he didn’t care so long as the demon heard it. Because he would keep saying it. Every day for the rest of their lives. 

Crowley was similarly affected. He wiped at his teary eyes and gasped out a laugh. Aziraphale raised his other hand to cup Crowley’s other cheek and the demon leaned into the touch. 

The moment was so...sparkling and soft. Crowley wouldn’t give it up for the world. If they’re lucky, and Heaven and Hell truly never come after them again...then they’ve got an eternity of joy ahead of them. 

Crowley’s knees just about gave out from under him at the revelation of it, and Aziraphale squeaked.

“Oh dear! Let’s sit down shall we?”

“Sorry m’ place is a mess, Angel.”

“No worries my love! None at all! I find it a refreshing experience. I’ve never sat in a squish chair like this one before.”

Crowley looked down at the ugly tie-dye atrocity. “That’s a beanbag, s-sweetheart. They’re iconic.” He tried to come off suave with a jutted hip and a smirk but he just ended up smiling shyly and almost losing his balance. 

“Yes, dear.” The angel gave an indulgent smile back. Unable to find another more viable seating choice, he fell into the beanbag gracelessly, sinking easily. “I wonder...if you’re thanking and saying goodbye to any of these bagbeans-“

“Beanbags-“

“Yes yes yes! If any of these so happen to be...free...”

“You want to read in one of them don’t you.” Hardly even a question. The answer was so plain in Aziraphale’s eager eyes. He watched as his eternal companion did a little shimmy of a wiggle. The material within the bag rustled softly. It was effortlessly charming, and Aziraphale didn’t ever have to try so hard to persuade him anyhow.

“Yours.” Crowley said. “Any one of them. Your pick. Choose whichever seat sparks joy.” 

“Oh well if that’s so then your lap would surely be the most accommodating-“

“Ngk!”

Aziraphale flushed and tried to cover his mouth but the laugh came out anyway. 

“I do hope you’re amenable to flirting, my joyous, ah, what would be a good charming pet name? Jellybean?”

“Jellybean!?” Crowley was surely discoporating now. There was no way the angel beside him could be real. 

“Yes, it is a little...odd. But we’re a little odd, my dear! My, we could both very well be joyous jellybeans together!-“

“Do you...” Crowley feigned a frown, heart alight and trying to smudge down his grin, “Do you like jellybeans, Aziraphale?”

Aziraphale hummed noncommittally. “They do happen to be a guilty pleasure of mine. Say, what are you going to do with the rest of this, ah, stuff, Crowley?” 

The demon shrugged. “I’m going to start with KonMari’s step one. It’ll be easier now that I know what joy is.” He glanced swiftly at Aziraphale. 

“I’m very glad, Crowley. If you need absolutely any help at all, I am always yours. In the meantime, I can’t seem to decide on any one beanbag. You don’t mind if I just...”

Crowley rasped a laugh, blinking away his watery eyes. “That’s how it always starts, Angel.”

They looked once more at the utter mess of Crowley’s flat with twin grins. They shifted closer. 

_ “That’s how it always starts.”  _

**Author's Note:**

> d o e s it brings us j o y ?   
gollum,,, , g o llu m
> 
> it brings us Much joy, myyy p r e c i o u s
> 
> \---
> 
> idk, i haven't gotten a lot of sleep, and listening to Marie Kondo for the first time has been both therapeutic and too energizing for me at this time of night


End file.
